ere they come from?"

"Yes. I learned that when I sent word of Stavornell's death to them this
evening. Lady Stavornell and her father have for the past week been
stopping at Cleethorp Hydro, to which they went for the purpose of
remaining over the Christmas holidays; and, oddly enough, both Mrs.
Brinkworth and Captain Crawford turned up at the same place for the same
purpose the day before yesterday. It can't be very pleasant for them, I
should imagine, for I believe the two ladies are not very friendly."

"Naturally not," said Cleek, half abstractedly. "The one loathing the
man, the other loving him. I want to see those two ladies; and I
particularly want to see those two men. After that----" Here his voice
dropped off. Then he stood looking up at the shattered globe, and
rubbing his chin between his thumb and forefinger and wrinkling up his
brows after the manner of a man who is trying to solve a problem in
mental arithmetic. And Narkom, unwise in that direction for once, chose
to interrupt his thoughts, for no greater reason than that he had thrice
heard him mutter, "Suction--displacement--resistance."

"Working out a problem, old chap?" he ventured. "Can I help you? I used
to be rather good at that sort of thing."

"Were you?" said Cleek, a trifle testily. "Then tell me something.
Combating a suction power of about two pounds to the square inch, how
much wind does it take to make a cutting-table fly, with an unknown
weight upon it, from the Sydenham switch to the Low Level station? When
you've worked that out, you've got the murderer. And when you do get him
he won't be any man you ever saw or ever heard of in all the days of
your life! But he will be light enough to hop like a bird, heavy enough
to pull up a wire rope with about three hundred pounds on the end of it,
and there will be two holes of about an inch in diameter and a foot
apart in one end of the table that flew."

"My dear chap!" began Narkom in tones of blank bewilderment, then
stopped suddenly and screwed round on his heel. For a familiar voice had
sung out suddenly a yard or two distant: "Ah! keep yer 'air on! Don't
get to thinkin' you're Niagara Falls jist because yer got water on the
brain!" And there, struggling in the grip of a constable, who had laid
strong hands upon him, stood Dollops with a kit-bag in one hand and a
half-devoured bath bun in the other.

"All right there, constable; let the boy pass. He's one of us!" rapped
out Cleek; a